


Vision

by yeaka



Category: Kingdom Hearts
Genre: Accidental Voyeurism, Anal Sex, Ficlet, M/M, PWP
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-23
Updated: 2017-08-23
Packaged: 2018-12-19 04:51:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 868
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11890410
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yeaka/pseuds/yeaka
Summary: Zexion walks into a disturbing truth.





	Vision

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Fair warning that I’m still playing through the KH series so don’t know all its lore yet.
> 
> Disclaimer: I don’t own Kingdom Hearts or any of its contents, and I’m not making any money off this.

Really, at Zexion’s level, he shouldn’t be breaking pots. It’s a ridiculous insult that that even ended up in his roster. He understands why some of the newer members—Xion, for example, even Roxas—need such tests, but certainly not someone as accomplished as Zexion. It’s even more infuriating that Saïx isn’t in the lounge to complain to after, though Zexion wouldn’t have wanted to do it publicly anyway. Instead, he’s forced to seek Saïx out, and after a thorough inspection of their insular world, only one option remains: the one he’d tried to avoid: Saïx’s bedroom.

Zexion never takes well to any who dare enter his personal space. Few ever do, but Larxene has no respect for boundaries and Demyx is all looks and no brains about that as much as everything else. Zexion tries to be more respectful as he slips down the long corridor, meaning to knock on the surely-shut doors. It’s a disquieting shock to find them already thrown open.

The darkness of the outside hall transitions right into the stark white of Saïx’s private room, and inside, sure enough, sits Saïx himself.

But he isn’t alone. Someone already beat Zexion to it, but the manner of the meeting before him is quite different than what he’d intended. Namely, he’d meant to discuss matters with Saïx at the table, and not sprawled out in Saïx’s bed. 

Like some twisted apparition born of both Zexion’s nightmares and buried fantasies, Saïx sits against the headboard, still fully dressed in leathery black, blue hair run through with nimble fingers. The spry blond that straddles his lap is less covered, stripped down to only white boxers pulled half down creamy thighs, the rest of a long coat tossed aimlessly across the mattress. A silvery sitar sits atop it. Demyx bends forward into Saïx’s stern form, and he parts his pink lips: an open invitation that Saïx hungrily takes with a brutal kiss.

They’re _fucking_. Despite popular opinion amongst the other members, Zexion isn’t too sheltered to know that. He can see the way Demyx’s pale skin shimmers with a thin sheen of sweat, flushed rose in all the right places. His plush thighs are spread wide, soft rear dimpling with each thrust, and when he rises high enough, Zexion can catch a glimpse of the thick shaft that must be stuffed inside him. His lithe body is arched forward, his nipples slick and hard as though they’ve been teased relentlessly—licked and bitten, tugged and kissed. His uneven hair is a frayed mess that Saïx’s hands plough cruelly through. Mostly, Saïx’s grip falls to Demyx’s trim hips, which he alternates between fisting in and smacking. Demyx whines at each hit, gasps at every thrust, and is just as loud and arousing as Zexion’s always feared.

He pushes that thought down instantly. Demyx is the worst of his peers. Lazy and cowardly, Demyx always weasels his way out of the work Zexion must pick up after. And now Zexion knows how. He should’ve guessed. Of course Demyx had to be offering Saïx something for simpler missions, and his body is the only thing he has that anyone wants. Not that Zexion wants it. He watches Demyx ride Saïx’s cock with a ragged enthusiasm and natural talent, fluid and artful, too damn _pretty_ , but Zexion won’t let himself feel for it. He’s not naïve enough to think Nobodies can’t feel. Obviously, base desires still plague their kind. 

Saïx devours Demyx’s mouth like he has a lust that can’t be quenched. At least, not with someone as frail as Demyx. It makes Zexion wonder if Saïx does this to others—how many of them he takes forbidden pleasure in. Zexion’s never gotten as much as a second look from him. Zexion isn’t exactly displeased about that, but he’s angry about _this_ —about Saïx giving in to such obvious manipulation.

And he’s madder at Demyx for doing it. For being weak and easy and cheap. For having a cock hard for _Saïx_. Zexion can see it bobbing in Demyx’s lap, untouched by either of them—but of course Saïx wouldn’t be a generous lover. He doesn’t think Nobodies can even _feel_ , despite this new surge of evidence. He can’t possibly know how to make _love_.

Zexion’s fists are tight at his side. His pants are suddenly bizarrely tight. For one horrible moment, he realizes he’s fallen victim to it: he lost himself in the mesmerizing gait of Demyx’s lewd beauty. 

But he doesn’t manage to tear himself away until Demyx makes it impossibly worse. Over Saïx’s shoulder, he tilts his head, eyes finally peeking open, dilated and heavy-lidded, to peer across the space and find Zexion waiting there. His eyes are clear blue with a hint of mint-green, ever-changing like the surface of a moonlit pool. And they fix Zexion to the spot. 

Demyx has the gall to _smile_. Zexion scowls, disgusted.

Or at least, that’s what he tells himself. He storms away, original purpose quite forgotten. He’s now indignant over new obscenities, and he vows to give Demyx a piece of his mind on their next mission, assuming Saïx’s new fucktoy ever gets assigned to any work at all ever again.


End file.
